


Crash and Burn

by chiixil_84



Series: What If [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Post-Thor (2011), Gen, Marvel Universe, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possibly Pre-Slash, Post-Thor (2011), Pre-Avengers (2012), Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Civil War (Marvel), Pre-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Pre-Thor: The Dark World, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2020-10-29 05:08:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20791148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiixil_84/pseuds/chiixil_84
Summary: At the end of Thor, instead of Loki falling into the void and eventually coming back to fight against the Avengers in New York, Odin captures Loki and has him sentenced similarly to Thor.Loki loses most of his powers, leaving him with a fraction of his previous powers -- and he has to make it in New York, by himself.Then comes Victoria: a girl who works as a barista at a local book shop/cafe. When she accidentally ruins not only one of his suits but also a whole slew of his ancient (irreplaceable) magical tomes, she's roped into working for him as a way to repay her clumsiness that set him back in his mission to return to his former glory.





	1. Hypotheticals

Darkness surrounded him, rending him blind within its depths; yet, he was fully aware of his surroundings: he could sense Odin standing proudly before his prisoner as the Council surrounded them, their presences just barely acknowledged by the trickster. The All-Father’s voice wavered as he pressed on through a spell, the silent as ever Council the only witness to the events unfolding.

The young man could only imagine the glint of disapproval in the All-Father’s golden eye, but Loki supposed that being blinded at this moment was more blessing than punishment.

As the spell progressed, he began to feel sick, his tongue swelling as his throat constricted from the thick, charged air. Despite the magical gag keeping him silent, Loki’s sobs were echoing throughout the throne room.

Whether he heard his adoptive son’s sobs or simply chose to ignore them, Odin’s thunderous words drowned out everything, even Loki’s thoughts.

For once in his life, the trickster felt truly helpless, even more so with the fact he couldn’t speak. But, despite the gag spell still firmly in place, his sight slowly began to return to him. Loki attempted to rock back from his knees to his feet to get a better look around the room, but he was planted firmly in his spot, kneeling before Odin.

Like a mongrel begging for scraps, not as a god and most definitely not like a son.

Any words being spoken, the mage couldn’t comprehend them; he lamely looked around, pleading silently to anyone, grasping at someone to pity him. Without his silver tongue, his charm became useless.

Once the spell was finished, Odin gazed fully at Loki, stating simply, “If there were any other way, Loki.”

The trickster gagged on the air as his throat opened up to him finally. “What is my crime?” he choked out between his sobs and wracking coughs. “Where is my fair trial?”

The All-Father shook his head, a disgruntled look sprawled across his ancient face. “No, Loki.”

The green-eyed young man rocked back slightly, horrified and hurt by his father’s simplistic degradation. “_No?_” he echoed back, horrified.

“You are hereby banished,” Odin went on, as if Loki hadn’t spoken, “until your transgressions are cleared away.”

Before Loki could open his mouth to utter another syllable, he found himself falling, falling, _falling_…

[…]

His next breath was full of water.

Immediately sitting up in his apartment’s tub, Loki coughed out the water in his lungs and wiped frantically at his eyes, looking around the bathroom as the panic fully woke him. It was nowhere near the lavish style of an Asgardian water closet like he was used to, but it was enough for him at the moment, despite its tacky embellishments.

It would _have _to do. He had no other choice.

Clinging to the edge of the tub, Loki ran a hand through his black hair, wringing out the water from the ends as he calmed himself from his fright. _It was only a dream, _he told himself for the millionth time. _The same damned dream that put you here._

It had been a year since his father had oh-so kindly abandoned his adopted son in Midgard, and it had been an aching year of torment and tribulations that Loki was _just now _overcoming.

Slowly, carefully, the Asgardian lifted himself from the ceramic basin and wrapped a soft towel around his body. He leaned into its comfort and warmth, having not realized until he stepped out just how cold the water had become.

Loki looked around the room and cursed anyone he could think of, starting with his half-brother and fathers down to the very person that decorated this Hell-hole. This was not the banishment he had thought he would receive; even _Thor _had been given the opportunity for someone to take care of him, and he’d fallen in a _desert_.

Why not he, Loki, be given that same right in a city of millions?

“What are you getting at, Odin?” Loki hissed to the void, holding the towel closer to his shivering body. “Is this some sadistic joke you wish to play upon me? Where is my share of kindness? What must I prove to you?”

He waited in silence, heaving as anger coursed through his body, but the trickster knew he would get nothing from the All-Father, or at the very least Heimdall.

As usual.

While the water drained, he was once more left in silence. Loki threw his hands up into the air in frustration, cursing every person from Asgard to every other realm whose names he could remember. Anyone and everyone had earned his ire, and he deserved retribution.

Calming somewhat after his daily bout of brooding was over, Loki dragged himself to the beat-up dresser that held all of his pathetic clothing, picking out a normal, _mortal_ outfit for his day’s continued search for a way out of here.

He lay on the bed soon after, coughing up whatever water remained in his lungs whilst staring aimlessly at the ceiling, hoping some sign from the cosmos would fall into his lap.

A knock came from his door, waking him from a short spell. Running his skeletal fingers through his rough, nearly dried hair, Loki carefully sat up and shuffled between plastic-covered, unused furniture and towering piles of books to gain access to the door. He unlocked the extensive, hardly necessarily collection of locks and gave the trespasser a harsh glare.

“You’re late,” he snarled, keeping the door open only enough to allow her to see his dissatisfaction.

Scoffing and giving him an equally irritated expression, the young woman replied, “I already made it clear I’m not FedEx. I get you these books whenever I can find them, and these fantasy books—”

“Fantasy books,” the Asgardian hissed, his grip on the door handle tightening as anger electrified him once more.

She continued on, ignoring him easily, “—they’re hard to find. Expensive as Hell to acquire, too.” She paused, then started up again, “Look, will you pay me or not? You still owe me from forever ago.” The woman held her hand out, the other calmly placed on her hip.

He groaned, rolling his eyes at her insistence. “You will be rewarded as soon as I am able to return to my former status,” Loki droned through gritted teeth, his words and attitude painfully obvious this was a repetitive argument between them. “But for now, you will give me what I require or _else _ —” He opened the door further and reached out for her bag to snag the book, only to have her step back, both hands grasping her bag protectively. He glowered, seething as she _tsked _him.

“Payment, or else my part of the deal is over, and I’m calling the cops.” She crossed her arms over her chest, watching him seriously from behind her sunglasses. “Or making a pyre to get whatever gods’ attention.” She made a vague gesture with her hand. “Whatever.”

He went over every available option he had, but found nothing except giving her something to sate her greedy mind.

Sighing, Loki nodded, relaxing against the doorframe. “Fine. You will walk away from this unscathed, if only because I allow that to be so.” She nodded sarcastically and gave him a confirmation noise, earning another glare from Loki.

Shrugging, she said, “Hey, man. I could just leave.” Loki clawed at the wooden frame slightly, his patience wearing thin.

“Tell me what you want, _child_,” he hissed, his fingers leaving slight indentions in the frame, “or else you will no longer have a customer.” It had been made apparent in prior arguments that the two needed each other, if only for business purposes.

She couldn’t afford to give him up.

Looking between the frame and his narrowed green eyes, something in the girl seemed to fall into place. The girl sighed, her harsh, I-don’t-need-you attitude washing away instantaneously.

Holding up her hands, her sunglasses falling off her nose slightly, the woman muttered, “Chill, Skeletor. I just want to know what you’ve got me finding, other than some occult bullshit. But first things first.” She motioned to the door, but he didn’t budge.

Sighing again, she eventually said, “I need to use your bathroom. I’ve been on the road for a day and a half, _straight_, to make sure you got these particular books.”

A moment passed, and he still hadn’t moved. “Why does that concern me?” he asked nonchalantly, tipping his nose down at her. Her eyes narrowed at his words.

“I want to see how bad I look.”

Rolling his eyes and releasing an exasperated sigh, muttering about her vanity, Loki left the door open and returned to one of the book-mountains, sifting through the valleys’ depths absently. She took a step inside and closed the door behind her, whistling in awe at his collection.

“Wow,” was all she could manage. It was quite a collection of tomes, from paperbacks to hardcovers to even a few scrolls. Languages from across the world and colors all along the spectrum were scattered around the room seemingly haphazardly, beautiful and sometimes illegible letters scrawled across the covers or containers that held unimaginable information. For a moment, she seemed to be entranced by the room – but it was gone the next moment as if a spell had been broken as she bee-lined for the still-open bathroom.

Loki watched her as she stood awestruck at his collection, moving to on one of the covered pieces of furniture as he shifting through one of the new book’s pages, watching the words literally fly off of the pages.

It didn’t take long for the woman to return from the bathroom, looking even worse for wear. He hadn’t really cared about her looks, seeing as she was a lower being than he was (seeing as she was a _Midgardian_), but as she returned to the living room, Loki did notice she looked like Hell.

Looking up at her from the book, the man started, “Well, Midgardian—”

“Victoria,” she corrected instantly, giving him a pointed stare.

He shrugged. “Whatever. You wanted to know what I need?” He watched her intensely for a moment before she nodded, her grey eyes shifting away uncomfortably.

“You won’t keep staring at me, will you?” she joked, though her tone wavered. “If you could make this quick, seeing as I’ve got to get back to my _actual _work in twenty minutes.” He gave her a sharp look, and she raised her hands defensively. “My bad, man. What do you want, snake charmer?”

His response was instant: “Your soul.”


	2. New Divide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki isn't as suave as he thinks he is without his magical abilities to back him up.

For a moment, she just stared at him with wide eyes, blinking slowly. Loki hadn’t been expecting much of a reaction from the girl, but he thought she would at least ask some annoying question. 

In a huff, the trickster turned and muttered, “Not like I expect a mere _mortal _to understand.” 

“Oh, it’s not that I don’t understand,” she replied. “I just don’t care.” 

That made him stop. “Then why did you accept my request for a servant?” he shot back, turning to face her. He could feel the tips of his fingers and ears burning with electricity he no longer possessed the command of, but could still feel the magicks pulling against his appendages like a phantom feeling as it raced across his skin. 

The woman stared at him, an agitated expression gracing her features. Holding a finger up at him, she rambled off, “For one thing, I’m not a servant, I took the job as your assistant. Secondly –” she lifted a second finger, “– the last time I checked, I wasn’t the only mortal in the room. And, really, most importantly,” a third finger didn’t shoot up, but her voice dropped low as she finished, “my soul isn’t for sale. We already agreed upon that bit.” 

Loki snorted, rolling his eyes at her comments. “_Please_. You knew what you were doing when you made a pledge to the god of mischief. There is no way for you to _worm_ your way out of a contract with me.” 

Victoria didn’t relent, however, storming right up to the demigod and hissing, sticking a finger in his face, “You’ve violated at _least _half of that stupid contract already. And yet I still show up to help you with your weird errands. Do I get any thanks?” The woman threw her hands up, shouting, “No! Of course not! But I’m supposed to get on my knees and grovel for you?” 

“That’s the idea,” he mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. Whether she heard him or chose to ignore the comment, Loki wasn’t entirely sure, but just the sound of his voice seemed to agitate the woman more. 

“Whatever. Look, I’m just going to go home.” She started to gather the books from his desk, earning a shout from Loki as he dove to retrieve them. Easily side-stepping him as he landed face-first into the tile, Victoria tutted at him as if he were a child. “Come on, now. You think I’m going to do this without pay and get shit on?” She put the most recent books back into her bag, shaking her head as she made her way to the door. “That’s not how any of this works.” 

Holding his hand out to her, his brows furled in concentration as he begged the universe to grant him _just this one_ spell to manifest an illusion before her to stop her – but, as always, nothing happened. 

She walked right out the door and left him on his dusty floor. 

Collapsing onto the floor in defeat, Loki couldn't find the energy to get up. _Gods, what pitiful depths I’ve fallen to,_ he thought with a groan, resting his forehead against the floor. _Just let Surtur take me now and end this madness. _

If only fate would be so kind. 

[...]

He fell asleep on the floor at some point. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing to do, but it gave Loki time to shake off his prior memory-dream and dip him into a far more devastating reality where, rather than exiled to Midgard with no magic or way to contact Asgard, he was being tortured by a mad titan in a realm far beyond even Heimdall’s sight. 

Loki never liked passing into this reality, and often found himself unable to look in the mirror, in fear of seeing _that _Loki in the reflection rather than his own. 

Though he loathed to consider his current situation as _freedom_, in comparison to the other Loki’s existence, the trickster could at least be at peace knowing he wasn’t being twisted with the Tesseract’s infinite powers to bend to the will of another’s. 

If he was going to rule this miserable part of the galaxy, Loki would do it _himself– _with or without that damned mortal. 

He’d found cracks in the universe no other mage could; Hell, he was raised by the goddess _Frigga_, and she held more dominion over the unknown than he would ever be able to understand. How hard could it be to gather some information about long-lost Asgardian artifacts on a planet hardly able to keep itself alive? 

All Loki would have to do is assert himself, and put himself out there. 

Still; the thought of leaving the safety of his home – this small plane of existence he knew he could control – made him second guess his decision. He could still try and contact Victoria and ask for her forgiveness – at least until he had what he needed, then he could leave her to her own devices once again – but their last interaction didn’t sit right with him. 

_ No, _the fallen god told himself. _I don’t need her to fulfill this quest of mine; but, she will surely pay once I am back to my full capabilities. _

He would personally make sure of it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see!! I had this written up for the longest time, and decided to post it. It's not really a GREAT chapter, but I wanted to post it and get it out of my drafts. Next time, I'll work on getting more of this book-finding business out there, so y'all can see just what Loki's trying to accomplish.
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this literally 6 years ago, about a year after the Avengers movie came out. Of course, I edited it, but idk if it'll go anywhere.
> 
> It was originally something I posted on my dA as a "what if I wrote this" scenario and I got a dozen "okay slow down Satan" messages within seconds of each other, so I've held onto the plot bunny since then. I'm pretty sure it's been enough time since most of the canon stuff is out of the way for our beloved characters, so... suffer? I guess? Until I get to that conclusion? Lol


End file.
